


Master

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21612724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Okona makes another pit stop.
Relationships: William Riker/Thadiun Okona
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Master

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Will’s barely gotten back to his quarters when the computer’s beeping, telling him there’s a visitor, even though he _just_ got off duty and hasn’t even had a chance to strip down yet. He was thinking of having a nice, relaxing bath with _real_ water, but evidently, that’ll have to wait. At least, it probably will. It could be an ensign just delivering a report, but the only people that generally come to Will’s quarters are people he cares enough about to spend time with. The computer beeps again—his visitor hasn’t gone away. 

He decides to get it over with and answer it. He wanders over and announces, “Open.”

The door obeys. It slides back, and the Enterprise’s latest guest is standing there, leaning one hand against the doorway with the other on his belt like some swashbuckling character out of an old-school cheesy romance. The fact that he’s dressed like a fantasy pirate doesn’t help. Will greets in minor surprise, “Okona.”

“Riker,” Okona returns. “Can I call you William?”

Will’s tempted to say _no_ , but something about Okona’s charming smile has him correcting, “Will.”

“ _Will_ ,” Okona repeats. The word twists across his tongue like a heated promise whispered in an intimate moment. Clearly, this is a man who knows what he’s doing.

Before things go any further, Will asks, “What can I help you with?”

Okona’s grin stretches wider. Will realizes he’s left an open invitation in the air—low-hanging fruit that Okona seems to be eyeing up. Okona’s eyes twinkle as he explains, “So, I’ve been around the ship... and everyone I talk to says you’re the man to see for a good time.” His head tilts, long bangs tumbling across his forehead. He definitely picked the right haircut for his face; he has both an air of mystery and eroticism. Will lifts one brow. 

“I don’t know if I’m offended or flattered.” He’d never _really_ be offended by such a statement, but Okona doesn’t know that. 

Okona promises, “You should definitely be flattered.”

Something about the corny yet suave delivery makes Will snort. He almost laughs. When he had Okona beamed up several hours ago, this really wasn’t where he thought things were heading. But Will’s always been the sort of man to roll with the punches. He asks, “Did you come for pointers, then?”

Okona doesn’t even answer. He’s made himself infinitely clear, and it must be obvious that Will understands that. And Will hasn’t rejected him. Will’s just being a tease. 

Okona takes that one step closer and tilts in, pressing his lips against Will’s. Will doesn’t pull away. Okona’s mouth is slightly chapped, mostly smooth, incredibly soft, warm, and wet. All the things Will lives for. Okona’s light stubble tickles his chin, scratching through his own beard. Okona’s nose digs into his cheek, Okona’s arm wrapping loosely around Will’s neck, just pulling him that fraction closer—holding them together. When Okona’s tongue traces across the seam of his lips, Will opens up. 

He sucks Okona in and admires the skill with which Okona licks him out, gracefully transitioning from one fiery kiss to another. By the time Okona pulls away, Will’s pulse has spiked. 

Already sounding breathless, Okona purrs, “I came for a good time.”

Will really _looks_ at him. Will examines his handsome face, his chiseled jaw, his broad shoulders, the bit of exposed skin across his toned chest and the sweep of his hips jutting forward. Will lifts a hand to gently brush back through Okona’s silken bangs, making up his mind. 

He benevolently decides, “I suppose I could give you a few tips.”

Okona grins and slips right past him, back into his quarters.


End file.
